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“I believe you know my niece, Ursula,” Adelaide declared in a voice that was laden with pride.
“I do,” Trenton murmured politely. “How are you this evening, Miss Proctor?”
“I am very well, thank you,” she replied.
“Did you enjoy the music?”
She coughed and fought the urge to roll her eyes. “It was an education,” she replied politely.
“Indeed, it was. If there is one thing I should aspire to achieve in my life from this moment forth it is to never hear such a hideous racket again,” he murmured in a tone that was soft and gentle, and far too intimate for her feminine sensibilities to cope with.
A shiver of awareness slithered down her spine. The intimate tone in his voice elicited a flurry of awareness deep in the pit of her stomach that she wasn’t sure how to deal with. His eyes met and held hers for several long moments as a somewhat uncomfortable silence settled between them. It took several rather embarrassing moments before she realised he was waiting for her to speak. When she did, she jumped guiltily and scrambled frantically to find something to say.
“I didn’t realise you were in London,” she said. It was the only thing she could think of.
Right now, she would much prefer him to be back in Yorkshire, where she didn’t have to be reminded of just how handsome he was.
The years had, if possible, made him even more charming than she could remember. His grey eyes still twinkled mischievously, but now there was an air of masculine sophistication about him that appealed to her. She knew she shouldn’t stare at him; it was the height of bad manners, but her eyes were drawn repeatedly to his broad shoulders, awkwardly aware that in comparison to most of the men present, he was tall and powerfully built. As far as she was concerned there was nobody else quite like him. If only she knew what to do about the shimmering awareness that swept through her, maybe she could get her mind to work properly whenever he was around.
“I concluded my business early and, given that London has more to offer than the wilds of the Yorkshire moors, I returned as quickly as I could. How do you like it here?”
He struggled to tear his gaze away from her, but she looked so stunning bathed in the gentle glow of the candle-light that his eyes just feasted. She was taller than he could remember. The top of her raven hair only touched his shoulder, but that only emphasised her feminine allure. There was a maturity about her now that when combined with delightfully rounded feminine curves, and that secretive smile, made her an intriguing bundle of femininity he wanted to unravel. As far as he was concerned, she was as close to perfection as anyone he had ever met and the quicker he could further his acquaintance with her, the better.
He glanced at Adelaide and mentally thanked the Lord that she was now deep in conversation with her fr
iends, and had seemingly forgotten all about them. It allowed him a few precious moments to converse with the woman who had captured his youthful imagination a long time ago, and had refused to let go. Now, having seen her again, he realised that maturity had only added to her beauty, and emphasised the stunning features God had graced her with.
“It’s good to see you again,” he assured her huskily. “I was expecting you to be in Yorkshire. I called by your house to see your father a few days ago. He told me you were here and sends his regards. He said to ask you if you had progressed with your project yet. He is still waiting for your letter, and that you should choose wisely.”
He lifted his brows as he waited for her to explain. To his consternation, he watched the joy fade rapidly from her eyes. It wasn’t just the sudden evaporation of her happiness that bothered him. It was the incredible sadness that replaced it that unnerved him the most. He knew the truth about why she was in London, and had been horrified when her father had told him. However, he couldn’t fathom why such a prospect should make her so dejected. Did she not wish to marry?
“I hope I haven’t said anything to upset you,” he murmured quietly when she looked as if she was about to cry.
The thought of someone like Ursula being thrown to the wolves in London; quite literally, in search of a husband, had him racing after her as though hounds from Hell were nipping at his heels. He didn’t stop to think of the possible questions his sudden departure from Hoghampton might raise. Nothing had unnerved him more than the thought of Ursula being betrothed to some lecherous rogue whose interests were less than pure. Although he had only ever met her on a handful of occasions at local functions, she had long since captured his interest even though he had never been given the opportunity to get to know her better. Now though, things were different and he wasn’t going to waste a single moment in furthering his cause.
“I hope I haven’t just imparted bad news?” he prompted when she didn’t seem inclined to speak.
Ursula looked up at him and offered him a half-hearted smile. “No, not really,” she replied quietly. “I am sorry. I just remembered that I forgot to let him know I have arrived safety.”
Trenton knew she had just lied to him but was prepared to forget that as long as she would smile at him again. He studied her carefully while he tried to find something witty to say that would bring that happy sparkle back.
Ursula tried not to stare at him but couldn’t ignore the solidity of his reassuring presence. She had never felt anything quite like it before. His masculinity drew her in, and encouraged her to trust him, confide in his unflappable strength. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him everything; only why she should feel the need to do so without even knowing him properly was anyone’s guess. There was just something about his manner that assured her that he was a man who could be relied upon in times of crisis.
In spite of this, she sternly reminded herself that he was the last person who would be interested in her personal problems, even if this were the time or the place to divulge such information. Deep in the back of her mind was the knowledge that he would soon be a married man. It gave her the strength to ignore the pang of hurt that lingered around her heart, and straighten her shoulders in a singular show of defiance.
“I shall endeavour to write to him as soon as I get the opportunity. I apologise for my father’s forwardness in expecting you to be his messenger,” she replied somewhat stiffly.
“I don’t mind,” Trenton assured her, wishing he hadn’t mentioned it now. He hated the formalities of society at the best of times, and even more so with Ursula. It was part of the reason why he loved being back in Yorkshire where he was able to be himself and everything was considerably more relaxed.
Given where they were this evening though, manners dictated that he smile politely at her, and speak cautiously because of eves-droppers and gossips, but it was the last thing he wanted to do. “He knew I was returning to London and asked me to pass the message on if I saw you.”
She winced when she realised she had been a little harsh with him and willed herself to relax. Of course the only reason why someone like Trenton would approach her was to relay a message. Why else would someone who was as handsome and well connected approach an eligible woman who was chubbier than most, smaller than average, and rather plain. It wasn’t Trenton’s fault that he had hurt her by offering for someone else. He had no idea how she felt about him; how she had always felt about him.
Now, he never would.
“Thank you for doing so.” In spite of her best efforts, hurt kept her manner formal.
“If you are ready, Ursula, it is time I found my bed,” Adelaide declared having said farewell to her friends. She turned to Trenton. “At my age dear, I cannot keep the pace I once did. It is time for me to call it a night. Please excuse us, Trenton, my dear.”
